"The Human Experience" by Jared Cappel
An expectant couple talk to a salesman about financing gene manipulation for their unborn child.
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"The Human Experience" by Jared Cappel
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Always make them wait. Couples love to talk, young ones especially. We’re not allowed to record them but there are no laws on amplifying. Our waiting area is designed to project their voices, magnifying their speech and feeding it directly into my earpiece.
It’s important to get a good look at them too. The wife, Morgan, is clearly on edge. She walks around the room, studying every fold in the wall, like a dog sniffing around the perimeter of her yard. Her husband, Thad, sinks into a chair, a pile of pamphlets in his hands. He flips through them, rolling his eyes, tossing them aside. One final pamphlet catches his eye – a list of packages with a detailed breakdown. This wasn’t on the website.
Morgan seems nervous; Thad, angry. This is important to know. Morgan controls their general discourse, but Thad likely has the final say. His tone is rather gruff, insisting. When he speaks, his wife listens. When she speaks, which is often, he barely acknowledges her, refusing to lift his eyes from the pamphlets.
I make them wait another ten minutes before letting them into my office. I’ve gathered all the intel I’m likely to obtain, but the longer they wait, the more the power shifts into my hand. A simple tactic, and a rather understated one at that, but it’s effective. We have the data to prove it.
The couple is much friendlier with me than they were to each other. They shake my hand, accept some coffee, settle into the chairs across the desk from mine. Morgan begins rambling off all the information she’s learned on our process. Some of the statements are posed as questions but really she’s just trying to impress how much she knows. It’s clear she’s read a lot into this. I rate her understanding of our procedures in the upper range.
Thad is still focused on the pamphlet in his hand. The details in the pamphlet are a bit different than on the website. This is intentional, though there’s no way for him to know that. He becomes rather specific and accusatory with his questions. His voice remains gruff; his words, deservedly paranoid. His understanding of our procedures isn’t quite to the level of his wife’s, but his distrusting nature is rather astute.
I smile, to let them know their concerns are heard, and I pull a form from the second drawer of my desk. “Before we get into all that, have you decided which package you are thinking of purchasing?”
“The gold,” Morgan says, “though we’d consider the platinum if you can talk us into it.”
“Honey, we discussed this.” Thad hands me a stack of papers. “We qualified for a loan for the gold package. We really can’t afford anything higher.”
I give the documents a perfunctory glance and begin to fill out some information on my form. “This all appears in order. We do have other financing options available for the platinum package, but we’ll get to that in good time.”
Morgan leans forward in her chair, lowers her voice to a whisper. “Is it really true that the platinum package is the highest?”
“Yes. It’s been written into law.”
“Well yeah, we know that, but surely royalty and such aren’t locked into such restrictions like us plebeians.”
“I can assure you they are.”
“I don’t believe it.”
Thad nudges his wife and signals for her to be quiet. “She’s just an employee dear. If there’s anything shady going on, she wouldn’t know the half of it.” He smiles at me. “No offense, of course.”
There’s nothing he can say that would really offend me, but his assumption at my naïveté certainly works in my favor. Any issues he raises can be deflected to the company. “None taken,” I say, “but I am quite confident no one can go above platinum. The entire process is codified, made public and reviewed for irregularities.”
“We’ve read the website,” Morgan says, then stops herself. “Sorry, you must take me for quite the shrew.”
“It’s okay. All hopeful parents just want what’s best.”
“Or second best in our case,” Thad says with a smile, but his wife isn’t laughing. He continues. “Please tell us more about the gold package.”
“The gold package entitles you to 150 additional attribute points, which you can give to your unborn child across any or all of the eight domains – physical health, mental health, attractiveness, intelligence, likability, athleticism, confidence, and our newest attribute luck.”
“Luck?”
“Yes, if you place your points on luck, the attributes will be spread at random across the domains.”
Morgan laughs. “Can you imagine that honey? Leaving all this to chance...like barbarians!”
Morgan laughs. “Can you imagine that honey? Leaving all this to chance...like barbarians!”
Thad doesn’t quite catch his wife’s comment, his attention lost deep in the folds of the pamphlet with the divergent information. “It says here with the gold package we start with 50 points in each of the domains?”
“Not quite,” I explain. “You get 50 points for both physical and mental health, meaning your child will be born with average genetic makeup in these domains. In the other domains, your child starts out at 25, meaning they’re at the 25th percentile.”
“So below average.”
“Yes, in a sense, but you have 150 other points to play with. If you want to do things conservatively, you could spread the points evenly across the six lower domains, and your child’s genes will be perfectly average.”
“Average?” Thad asks. “This is an awfully expensive way to end up with an average child, don’t you think? Seems like mother nature could do that herself.”
“But can she guarantee it?”
Thad slinks back into his chair and stuffs the pamphlet into the breast pocket of his jacket.
“Or you can place the points on the attributes that are most important to you,” I say.
“What attributes do most parents go for?” Morgan asks.
“For many years, physical health was our top seller, but it’s since been passed by mental health. Many parents realize there’s not much to life without happiness.”
“So our child can be happy as long as it’s ugly and dimwitted?”
I summon a line from my script. “I really think you’re underscoring just how many points you have to play with. Why don’t you use the attribute bars on the monitors to see how much freedom you really have?”
I swivel two monitors in front of the hopeful young parents to be. They each take their own approach to building the perfect child. Thad focuses on intelligence, athleticism and health, jacking up the points in these attributes at the expense of the others. Morgan is more conservative with her choices, trying to make sure her prospective child doesn’t lag in any one area.
Morgan scowls at our husband. “So you want a child with no confidence?”
“It’ll be confident because of how damn capable it is.”
“Uh huh, all people with a 28 likability score are brimming with confidence. People love to be loathed.”
“Well at least the child I created can use its intelligence to excel. What is your average Jane going to accomplish in life? You need talents to get ahead. You can’t get anywhere sludging through the middle.”
“My child will be healthy, intelligent and reasonably capable. What more can we ask for?”
“Greatness!”
The couple is getting a bit agitated, and I use this to my advantage. “Greatness comes at a price, I’m afraid. If the limited number of points doesn’t suffice, you can always consider an upgrade to our platinum package.”
Thad’s voice comes back gruff. “We already told you, it’s out of our price range.”
“Yes, I understand. However, you can take out a loan in your unborn child’s name to pay for the upgrade.”
“You want us to indebt our unborn child?”
“Forget unborn, the poor child has yet to be conceived!”
“Don’t think of it as a loan,” I say, another line from my script. “Think of it as an opportunity. With the advantages this will give the child in life, the loan should be easily paid in full by age 30 and once paid off the child will maintain all of the increased attributes.”
“Should be?”
“Yes, there’s still the randomness of the human experience, you understand. We only provide a genetic guarantee, but how those genes are expressed must be left to mother nature, as per international law. Not to worry though, good genes invariably lead to good people. Our repayment rate is over 85%.”
“And the other 15%?”
“Typically that’s from parents who don’t spread the attributes wisely. We’ve since introduced stricter measures for our platinum package and we expect that number to drop in the upcoming years.”
Morgan leans in, drops her voice to a whisper. “I have one last question for you.”
I laugh. Even if I hadn’t eavesdropped on them in the waiting room, I’d be well aware of what she’s going to ask. “Let me guess, sub-domains?”
The young couple’s eyes light up.
“I’m afraid those violate international law.”
“You really want us to believe that if some billionaire walked in, he couldn’t pay to have his child’s height altered?”
“If height were said billionaire’s paramount goal, he could raise the attributes of domains he felt might affect height, such as attractiveness or athleticism. But there’s no way to select for such specific human qualities.”
“Why? I mean I know it’s the law, but nobody’s ever been able to clearly explain why.”
I know exactly why, but I play the part of the naïve office worker and echo the company line. “From what I understand, it’s the same reason we can’t offer a package above platinum. If humans were given the choice, they’d crank all attributes to 100. When everyone’s at 100, nobody’s at 100. We need these rules to maintain the human experience.”
The young couple look at each other, whisper a few things into each other’s ears. The amplification works well. They think I’m lying, of course they do. I am. I hate when couples bring up the sub-domains, a topic I can discuss but not deliver upon. I need to redirect to the packages we do have, to the deals I can close. “The platinum package comes with an additional hundred points, allowing you to create a child that is well above average and poised for a successful life.”
Thad won’t admit it, but he’s intrigued. “Remind me how much more the platinum package costs.”
“Double the price of our gold package.”
“Double the price of our gold package.”
“Wait, double?” Morgan cuts in. “I read it was only a 50% increase.”
“Yes, that’s true, but that’s for parents who are able to pay our price up front. Due to the risk of loaning to an unborn child, our fees do go up considerably.”
The room falls silent, as the young couple tries to process all the information being thrown at them. It’s important for me to step out mid-meeting, to get an accurate sense of what the couple is really thinking, and now seems to be as good of a time as any. I get to my feet. “I can tell I’ve given you a lot to discuss. I’m going to run to the bathroom and give you a chance to think more about this decision. If you need anything, just open the door and holler.”
I leave the room and peer through a strategically placed eyehole which gives me a full view of my office. My earpiece continues to relay what is being said.
Morgan turns to her husband. “What do you think about all this?”
He motions for her to be quiet. He reaches into a briefcase and produces a small handheld device, resembling a ray gun. This is certainly an interesting development. He walks briskly throughout the room, aiming the gun at different surfaces. He sweeps the room with expert precision; it’s clear he’s been trained well.
“What on earth are you doing?” his wife asks. “What is that?”
“Quiet. Just give me a second.” The gun emits a powerful ray that appears red to the human eye. He aims it at the walls, at my phone, at the underside of my desk, all while saying “test.” He’s waiting for something to reflect back green. There’s only one thing in that office that will come back green. I wonder if he’ll find it.
His search comes back empty. He turns to his wife, speaking at a whisper. “It’s illegal for them to record us. There’s nothing to stop them from amplifying our voices, though. I wanted to make sure they aren’t listening.”
“Are they?”
“Not that I can tell.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I just do.” His voice is particularly insistent, and she lets the matter drop. “So what do you think?”
“It could be a good idea.”
“I don’t know, sounds like a scam to me. How would you feel if your parents took out a loan for you before you were even born?”
“How would you feel if your parents didn’t give you every possible chance to thrive?”
“It just seems expensive is all. What’s the point of a great life, if you spend the whole thing buried in debt?”
The questions are rather typical. I’m not really learning much that I didn’t already know. The only real development is the presence of the ray gun. He’s slid it back into his briefcase. I need to find a way for him to pull it out again. I press a button on my handheld device, which emits a staticky sound into the office. We use this when we want couples to feel they’re being watched.
He takes the bait. He reaches for the gun and begins to sweep the room once more. He lifts my phone and scans the underside. I quickly re-enter.
“I wish you’d put that down,” I say, maintaining a professional voice.
He lets the phone slide from his fingers, tries to conceal the item in his hand.
“We’re not recording you, if that’s your fear,” I say. “That would be highly illegal.”
“No, it’s not that...”
“We’re not listening either.”
He looks bashful. It’s the first time all day I’ve seen an honest emotion out of him. The tough veneer has finally cracked, some humanity oozes out.
“I didn’t think ordinary citizens were permitted the use of sound wave detectors,” I say.
His eyes bulge. Another honest reaction. This time he’s at a loss for words.
I reach for the form I had started to fill out earlier. “It says here that you work in construction.”
“Well, yes, technically…”
“Technically?” his wife asks.
“Sound wave detectors are only permitted to those with government clearance,” I say. “If we’re going to process your loan, we need you to be honest with us.”
“He’s in construction.” Morgan says. “Right, honey?”
Thad shifts in his seat. “Right.” His voice lacks conviction.
“Mm hmm,” I say. “Except that’s not exactly true, is it?”
Thad looks sheepishly at his wife, says nothing.
This is the chance I’ve been waiting for, one I rarely get. “Due to the inaccurate information provided in your loan documents, we won’t be able to proceed with the gold package. However, as the loan for the platinum package would be in your child’s name, we could still proceed. Please note however that this decision would have to be made today. Should you leave our office without a deal, I will have to file a report on your inaccurate loan documents which will invalidate you from further using our services.”
“I don’t understand,” Morgan says.
“I think your husband does,” I say. “I could step outside again, if you’d like.”
Thad says nothing but nods.
I re-enter the waiting room with a newfound sense of interest. These meetings tend to go the same way; the presence of the sound wave detector has changed everything. I wonder if he buys my threat.
“They’re listening to us, I’m sure of it,” Thad says.
“How can you be so sure?”
“How can she know about sound wave detectors? She could only know if she had seen one herself.”
“How can she know? How can you know?”
He stares down his wife, urges her to let the matter drop.
“If you don’t trust them, we can go somewhere else,” Morgan says.
“There’s no point. Once they enter into the system that we used false loan documents, we’ll be flagged everywhere. I think we better just go through with this. I can’t be flagged. My boss will find out.”
I can hardly believe my ears. He’s doing my work for me.
“I’m just worried about the loan,” Morgan says. “What if our child never pays it off?”
“We can account for that.” Thad reaches to the monitor and begins to adjust the attribute bars, paying particular attention to measures like intelligence. The young couple argues back and forth. The confidence they had arrived with is long gone, replaced with a foreboding sense that any decision they make (or don’t make) will doom their unborn offspring.
Morgan begins to fiddle around with her monitor too, using the additional one hundred attribute points to build the perfect child who could fare well in the most important measures while retaining a sense of balance. Her apprehension begins to fade, as she sees the ever-increasing scores.
Thad gets to his feet, opens the door, asks me to return. My eyes fall to the monitors in front of the couple. “Wow, both of your proposed children look rather similar!”
“They do, don’t they?”
“It’s the best of both worlds,” I say, a line from my script. “The security of a healthy child, with the promise of an exceptional one. So, should we finish filling out that paperwork?”
It takes another fifteen minutes to fill out the form and explain the genetic testing and conception process that will take place. Thad stays uncharacteristically quiet. Morgan badgers me with questions that I am easily able to answer. When we’re finished with the forms, I shake their hands and walk them to the door. “Remember if you have any more questions, you should find all the answers on the pamphlet.” I tap the pamphlet in Thad’s breast pocket.
The young couple thanks me for my hard work and exits. They seem nervous, but excited, as all new parents should be. I wait until they get into their car and drive off, and then I pull out my own sound wave detector and aim it around the room. “Test, test,” I repeat. Most of the waiting room glows a faint shade of green, as expected, as the room has been built to amplify sound.
When I aim the sound wave detector to the stack of pamphlets, they reflect a vibrant shade of green, a fitting color really, the color of money, the color of my money now that I’ve sold another platinum package.
Discussion Questions (Respond In Comment Section)
Which, if any, of the things that take place in the story do you find most immoral and/or disturbing, and why?
If the technology were available to change the attributes of your child for a price, would you do it? If so, what attributes would you focus on and why?
Is it immoral to incur debt that continues on to the child if it goes unpaid by the parent? Does it matter that the debt is for a purchase that will potentially help the child’s future?
If you could find out how you genetically rated on various attributes compared to the general population, would you want to know? If yes, what attributes would you want to know about, and why?
What, if any, difference is there between a wealthy parent that is able to stay at home, play with their child, and provide their child with mental stimulation so the child has the best chance at a good future, versus the parents in the story who have the money to do this genetically? In both cases, aren’t wealthy parents simply using their money to help secure their child’s future?
This story makes me feel sick. Which I think is the point, so well done.
What is most appalling to me is the assumptions of the parents. The assumption that, with a certain set of attributes, they'll be able to crawl out of the weight their parents put on them. The assumption that the child would be fine with the parents choosing what areas they lack in. The assumption that these traits are set and can't be built up through their life.
I think these assumptions are so appalling to me because it mirrors the assumptions real parents make. If he gets good grades, he'll be accepted into a good college and become successful in life—never mind that it's their definition of success, completely failing to consider the child's dreams in life. If he has smart friends and rejects the dumb ones, he'll be surrounded by good influences and focus on what matters—never mind that there are smart people who become druggies and dumb people who become the kindest souls you'll ever meet.
Parents assume that they know what's best for the child, never accounting for the fact that they're still learning and growing as well. That's even aside from the sheer randomness of events in life. There are so many things genetics and upbringing can't control. But parents are arrogant enough to think they can.
That's why this story is truly disturbing—because I actually believe many, many parents would actually buy into this system.
This felt like a black mirror type episode, I loved it